Welcome to the Thunderstomp, Lalonde.
I'm going to need more cheese puffs for this.
This is because I posted drunk, isn't it? You are maligning a woman her good brandy and the occasional backwater gas station swill as a pleasantry. How cruel of you. The fact that I prefer to taste my whine instead of the shoe-leather tasting polish you deserve. Such a pitiable affront to dignity. We're getting off on the wrong foot. Should we not be on the same side? You adore Roxy's drunken shenanigans. Why discourage my own? Why take this as some sort of failing?
He is being mean without appropriate grounds or justification of any kind.
Oh in that case, he's getting chunked again like last night. #ChunkStrider
With all due respect, and in my infinite dominion as Solemaster you are granted none, this is about the principle. Here I am, tormented, locked in the reflective sheen of a fuchsia's heels. In my hour of desperate need, there you are. My savior? No. My lashing, my antagonist. To the fucking Dimension with you. May we sink into this lake, hand in unlovable hand, knowing every step was guaranteed from the word go.
This is literally the mildest torture I could possibly invoke on her ass. Why is that chunk-worthy.
Because you don't mess with my nemesisters.
Boohoo. Maybe you should try extricating her folly-befallen self. Maybe you'll join her in my infinite stiletto chambers.